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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29071236">Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Suckiness</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/BisforBread/pseuds/BisforBread'>BisforBread</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Accidental Cuddling, Childhood Trauma, Coffee and Whiskey, Cuddling &amp; Snuggling, Drama &amp; Romance, Fluff and Angst, Gavin Reed Needs a Hug, Gavin Reed is Bad at Feelings, Hypothermia, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Insomnia, M/M, Nightmares, Nines Really Cares, Opening Up(kind of), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn, Soft Upgraded Connor | RK900, Swimming, Talking, The Shining References, Two Gays Out On The Town, Waffles, toaster jokes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 09:34:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>15,290</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29071236</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/BisforBread/pseuds/BisforBread</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Gavin Reed goes on an accidental gay quest. Unfortunately for him, that quest is for his android partner, Nines, a completely clueless 'plastic prick'.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hank Anderson &amp; Connor, Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. PART 1- LIFE</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em>It was a cold day, the snow piling up to his knees. It was infinitely deep, sucking his legs under in that wonderful icy feeling that warmed his soul. He looked back at his mother who waved at him from the living room window that pooled orange light onto the untouched white sheets of snow. Her smile was brilliant and cheerful, despite the worry behind her eyes. He </em>had <em>begged her for this and eventually gave in because this was his special day. Anything he wanted was his command, despite the little they had. Just today he had one wish. </em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em>He got into the sleek car, closing the door and feeling the cool leather with his open palms, smiling at the person next to him. They were finally able to afford just one luxury. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Then it moved, roaring to life. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>It was all a good time, watching the city whirl past him like an oil painting.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Then he saw a blinding light and the next thing he knew, he was on the ground, drowning in the blood and snow, reaching out for a hand that would never come. </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Gavin sat up, gasping. His knuckles were white clutching the blankets, and sweat poured from him. He was alone in the cold, lifeless room that mirrored his own existence, choking on his own breath and wishing <em>he </em>was the one that never woke up.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. [the emotionless toaster]</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Gavin Reed was having a normal day when Captain Fowler gives him a f r i e n d.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>"Gavin, I am so sorry...for all of this...for the meaningless fighting...your hand." The android looked at the shivering detective pressed against him and raised his hand to his face. There was no one coming, no one could save them. It was just them now, alone, and trapped.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"I'm sor-sorry t-too. For-for what it-it's worth," The detective's lips were blue and his hands were so cold. "Sh-shit...nin-nines...I'm sor-sorry." He rested his head where the android's shoulder and neck met, closing his eyes. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Hey, detective. Stay awake." RK900 rustled him a little but he didn't move. "Gavin!" </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>60 HOURS AGO. . .</b>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>----------GAVIN----------</b>
</p><p> </p><p>"THERE IS NO FUCKING WAY I AM TAKING <em>THAT </em>AS MY PARTNER!" </p><p> </p><p>"Gavin, can you just trust my judg-" </p><p> </p><p>"I'D RATHER WORK WITH A MISMATCHED SOCK-" </p><p> </p><p>"He can hear you, you know." </p><p> </p><p>I spin around in the glass office to see the android staring blankly at me and I raise my hand to flip it off, simultaneously mouthing 'fuck you'. It's still wearing its cyberlife uniform. </p><p> </p><p>"Just can you try to-" </p><p> </p><p>"NOT WITH THAT EMOTIONLESS TOASTER!"</p><p> </p><p>"Gavin. calm down. Listen," Fowler takes a deep breath and sighs, "if in a week you still don't like him, we'll reassign him. Sound fair?"</p><p> </p><p>"Do I have a choice?" </p><p> </p><p>"No." </p><p> </p><p>"Phck," I groan under my breath, rubbing my eyes. "Fine, <em>fine</em>. One week and then <em>that-" </em>I point to it standing in front of my desk "-is no longer my problem." </p><p> </p><p>I march out of the captain's office, huffing and hot-blooded. My feet stop right in front of the plastic prick and I give it my meanest glare. </p><p> </p><p>"Let's go tin can," Before walking past it, I make sure to clap its shoulder roughly. "We've got a case." </p><p> </p><p>The sensations of the city wash over me as I open the entrance doors: absurd honking, yelling, clicking of shoes, the distant smell of weed, and my all-time favorite, <em>coffee</em>. It's absolutely perfect. </p><p> </p><p>The sound of a sniff makes me jump as I realize that android is standing right next to me, face scrunched in disgust. </p><p> </p><p>"Fuck, can you back off a little?" </p><p> </p><p>It only tilts its head in confusion. "Are you uncomfortable with the distance between us, detective?" </p><p> </p><p>"If you mean <em>annoyed</em>, yes."</p><p> </p><p>It takes a step closer, our chests almost touching. "Is this more comfortable for you?" </p><p> </p><p>"Fuck!" I stumble backward. "Do you have any boundaries, plastic prick?!" </p><p> </p><p>"No," It sighs in response, "I am simply trying to figure out yours." </p><p> </p><p>And then. It has the audacity to wink at me before getting into the car. </p><p> </p><p>"What. the. fuck." I let out a breath and run a hand through my hair. Definitely not that Connor robot. No, this one is like...it's like It's fucking with me. It's like it's Connor but a top-</p><p> </p><p>Oh nevermind. </p><p> </p><p>After plopping down in the car, I push the keys into the ignition, feeling it rumble to life. But I don't pull out. "Put on your seatbelt."  </p><p> </p><p>"I do not see the purpose of-"</p><p> </p><p>"Just put your seatbelt on." </p><p> </p><p>"Such an action is redundant because I am built to withstand-" </p><p> </p><p>I slam my palm against the wheel so forcefully. "Put your fucking seat belt on now or <em>fucking walk!" </em></p><p> </p><p>"Alright, detective," Is its cool reply and I take a deep breath, trying to calm down before I pull out, turning onto the road.  The whole ride to the crime scene is completely silent, just the white noise of the road running under the car wheels. The entire 15 minutes, it stares at me, blinking every once and a while, looking at me like I'm a lost kitten.</p><p> </p><p>Finally, I park on the side of the road, roughly coming to a stop. "What." </p><p> </p><p>"Nothing." </p><p> </p><p>"Fine, don't fucking tell me, plastic prick. I'll be done with you by the end of the week." And with that, I get out of the car, waltzing over to the crime scene with the android treading carefully behind me. </p><p> </p><p>"What's the news, Chris?" </p><p> </p><p>The officer gestures with his hand to the mess I seem to have missed. "You tell me." </p><p> </p><p>"Oh fu-" </p><p> </p><p>"Victim is from the model line BT300, an older model who goes by the name Nala." I don't even know how RK900 moved so quickly, let alone when it crouched down by the body.</p><p> </p><p>"She was mutilated and dismembered, shutting down yesterday at 2300 approximately. Based on the blood spatters, there was a struggle and the attacker came from behind. There are no fingerprints other than her own and...." The robot freezes for a second before moving its hand under the android's shirt. </p><p> </p><p>"Hey, fridge, you might not wanna do that here-" </p><p> </p><p>"Victim is missing her thirium pump." Its mouth twists in almost frustration as it thinks. I can practically see the cogs in its brain turning. "How strange..."</p><p> </p><p>"What, RK900?" Chris steps forward, casting a look in my direction like <em>'damn, mighty fine partner you got there'. </em></p><p> </p><p>"Thirium pumps are very rare and very expensive. In most android cases where the victim is killed, it is usually for an arm or a leg. The common citizen does not know the true value of such an item." </p><p> </p><p>"So what, you're saying we're looking for someone in the black market?" I lean over my android partner, looking down at the body and the smeared blue blood that it swims in. </p><p> </p><p>It looks up at me with an almost smirk. "Precisely, detective." </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>----------------------------------</b>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>We head back to the precinct to do the boring work--sifting through endless amounts of paperwork about recent transactions and trading in the black market. Even the machine's drowning in the overwhelming amount of work. It's going to be a long night. </p><p> </p><p>"Hey tin head," I flick a crumbled up sticky note at the android to get its attention. "Hey!" </p><p> </p><p>It finally pauses to look at me with an unamused expression. </p><p> </p><p> "Get me a coffee." </p><p> </p><p>"Get it yourself." </p><p> </p><p>"Why would I get it myself when I have you?" </p><p> </p><p>"You know I'm not your slave, detective. Right?" Its eyes dance with challenge.</p><p> </p><p>"Get me a fucking coffee." </p><p> </p><p>"What's the magic word?" </p><p> </p><p>"Fuck, you're annoying. Is that it? Did I win?" I feign a corny-ass disney princess face, even pressing my fingertips to the bottom of my chin. </p><p> </p><p>"Close...but no." </p><p> </p><p>"I will sell you for parts myself if there is not a cup of caffeine in my hands in three minutes." </p><p> </p><p>The android just scoffs. "God, you're needy." </p><p> </p><p>The world seems to slow, like a record being stopped suddenly. Everything in the room becomes quiet except for this plastic prick. The voices of the full precinct drop dead and filter out replaced by complete silence. <em>"What?" </em></p><p> </p><p>"You heard me, twink." </p><p> </p><p>"Are you," I swing my legs off of my desk. "Calling me gay." </p><p> </p><p>"I am only relaying facts. You can take it as a compliment, <em>twink</em>." </p><p> </p><p>"Fuck you!" I stand up rushing toward it with unbelievable speed. "You're a robot designed to carry out orders and nothing more! You don't know anything about me. The number one thing would be that I'm not fucking gay!" </p><p> </p><p>It stands up too, and I hate how it looms over me like some giant. "I didn't know this would offend you so much. Humans are so...fickle." </p><p> </p><p>"You shut your goddamn mouth! You wouldn't know about emotion if it hit you in the fucking face!" </p><p> </p><p>"I can comprehend a great deal more than you ever will. The only emotion you have and ever will feel is anger." </p><p> </p><p>It's like dynamite exploding in me. Anger and rage, bursting through every inch of myself as I shout. It rumbles up like a soda about to pop. </p><p> </p><p>"I'LL SHOW YOU ANGER!" and punch him as hard as I can in the face. </p><p> </p><p>"Fuck!" The pain rips through my fist immediately, and my knuckles crack open from the blow. They're pulsing and red and bleeding, but my anger crowds that out. The android however seems completely unperturbed and not at all affected in any way. </p><p> </p><p>I feel its android hands wrap around my shirt and push me. The air around me stings as I fly backward and knock into the desk, my lip splitting and my nose bleeding. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>This motherfucker. Who does it think it is. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>"I'LL KILL YOU, YOU PLASTIC FUCKING TOASTER-" I grab its collar in my fist, about to throw another punch, but it catches it, the LED in its temple turning yellow. Then red. </p><p> </p><p>A pair of hands pull me away from it, and I can see the figure of Connor holding it back from me. The officers hold me back, trying to pull me away from the situation. And I will never forget the look on RK900's face, a mixture of murderous thoughts and a sprinkle of confusion. </p><p> </p><p>"YOU STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!" Is the last thing I get in before my voice goes hoarse. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>----------RK900----------</b>
</p><p> </p><p>[SOFTWARE INSTABILITY <b>^</b>] </p><p> </p><p>I read it across my screen when I catch the detective's hand in my own and we are only 8 centimeters away. Then the officers pull him back as Connor holds me back, though that's hardly necessary. There is a flicker of heat that surges through me when I look at the detective, but I assume it is only the instability. Eventually, Connor lets me go and I sit down in a chair that I pulled up earlier to the detective's desk. </p><p> </p><p>[SOFTWARE INSTABILITY] </p><p> </p><p>It still flashes in front of me, so I close my eyes and the precinct floor dissolves below me. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>My eyes open slowly, adjusting to the natural light streaming through the garden. My garden is a forest of perfectly arranged plants ranging from hibiscus to nightshade. Something is out of place though, something here does not belong. I catch a glimpse of a figure in the distance, laying in a small field of lavender. That is unusual. That should not be here. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Who are you?" I ask, making my way to the field until the lavender brushes my legs. No answer. "Hey. You!" </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>As I get closer, I notice the figure's eyes are closed and he looks so vulnerable stretched out in the grass, his clothes sparkling white. I wouldn't have recognized him if not for the hoodie, but he looks completely different. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Hey," I crouch down in front of him, gently shaking him. "It's time to wake up." </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>He stirs before his eyes flutter open, laced with confusion and haziness. "What....what am I doing here, RK900?" </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"This is my mind. It seems you're the source of my instability." </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>The detective chuckles softly. "Really. Who would've guessed." </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"I don't understand your purpose for being here, detective." </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"I'm here for you." </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"For me?" </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Yes you, toaster." </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I feel my breath hitch as one hand cups my face, drawing me closer to him. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"I need you-" </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>hey...fuck muffin...</em>
</p><p> </p><p>The world dissolves into a grey hue as that voice pulls me out of my world. As I come to, I see the detective right in front of me, shaking my shoulders and snapping his fingers. </p><p> </p><p>"Hey fuck muffin. Hey. It's time to wake up." His hands are on either side of my shoulders, just a few centimeters away. </p><p> </p><p>"I was not sleeping, detective." </p><p> </p><p>"Oh sure. Whatever. Fowler wants us." </p><p> </p><p>Now that he's this close, I notice the way his swollen lip has turned purple-ish blue or how red his nose looks like a bruise decided to settle there. Not to mention the purple-blue bruises forming on his blood dried knuckles. A twinge of guilt flushes through my system. </p><p> </p><p>"Detective I-"</p><p> </p><p>But he's already strutting into the captain's office, flopping down in one of the seats. I lower myself slowly in contrast, watching him the entire time. </p><p> </p><p>"You two need to get it together. You're partners!" Fowler slams his hand against the desk. "How are you supposed to trust each other when you want to kill each other? Stop having a domestic and get it together you two!" </p><p> </p><p>Just as I open my mouth to say, "Sir please let me-", the detective simultaneously says, "Fowler come on-" </p><p> </p><p>"You two need to learn how to cooperate! You're not children, this is a precinct and you are paid to work together!" The man takes a deep breath, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "You both have qualities in you that complement the other's and if you'd just realize that, we'll<em> all </em>be better off." </p><p> </p><p>The detective opens his mouth to speak, but the captain just cuts him off. </p><p> </p><p>"No buts, get <em>out </em>of my office." </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>----------------------------------</b>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>We have been at the precinct for 17 hours now, and even Chris went home for the night. It is just me and the detective going through endless paperwork under a shining lamp instead of using the office lights. He flips endlessly through the papers, scanning them wearily. We haven't spoken since captain Fowler's lecture, except maybe 'hand me that' or 'interesting'. </p><p> </p><p>Suddenly the detective looks up from his work. "Can I ask you something?" </p><p> </p><p>"Go ahead," I respond, slightly intrigued by where this is going. </p><p> </p><p>"Why do you still wear the cyberlife uniform? Are you even a deviant?" </p><p> </p><p>"These are all the clothes I possess...and no..." I add quietly, "I am not a deviant. I have broken no orders or felt an emotion that has made me one." </p><p> </p><p>"I see okay...so what would one have to do to make you one?" </p><p> </p><p>"I would have to feel something." </p><p> </p><p>"Well, then I guess you're safe," He chuckles, "Heaven forbid <em>you </em>have an emotion." </p><p> </p><p>His laugh turns into a yawn midway through and the detective rubs his eyes gently. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>[SUBJECT ANALYSIS SCAN] </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>&gt;&gt;&gt;Heart rate slowed by 2%</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>&gt;&gt;&gt;Body temperature lowered </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>&gt;&gt;&gt;Performance rate decreased by 12%</b>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Detective Reed." </p><p> </p><p>"What, tin can?" </p><p> </p><p>"You require sleep. Go home." </p><p> </p><p>"And leave you here with all the fun, no way." He snickers. "What, are you scanning me now?" </p><p> </p><p>"I'm worried about your health." </p><p> </p><p>"Woah, buddy." the detective looks up suddenly. "Be careful, that's an emotion." </p><p> </p><p>"If you can't perform well, then I can't. Emotions have nothing to do with it." </p><p> </p><p>"Mm, great okay. I'm not tired. But if I was, it's probably because I didn't get my coffee, you emotionless toaster." </p><p> </p><p>Several minutes pass, and time whirls around me. I don't realize how long it's been before I look up at the clock. </p><p> </p><p>"Hey, detective, it's 0300-" </p><p> </p><p>There he is, head in his hands, tiny snores emanating from him. His eyes are closed and he looks so young without a scowl on his face or his eyebrows furrowed. I stand up and shrug off my uniform jacket, draping it around him. </p><p> </p><p><em>'Not tired'</em> my android ass.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>----------GAVIN----------</b>
</p><p> </p><p>I wake up from a better nap than I've had a long time. There is a dreamlike a hazy memory just out of reach, but its presence still hovers in my mind. Warmth is wrapped around me, draped across me, and the sweet smell of what can only be described as 'new car'. Not the pungent new car odor, but...something fresh. Like a mix of fresh laundry and a new car. It's a jacket, and instantly I recognize it as that android's jacket. </p><p> </p><p>How did it...get here?</p><p> </p><p>Before I have time to dwell on it, my phone vibrates. The time reads 0700 and the text is from the android. How it got my number is greek to me. But I'm not surprised. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> <b>Detective. New victim. </b> </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> <b>2043 Vectren and 12th street. D o n' t be late. </b> </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>I groan and stand up, collecting my things before looking back at the jacket draped across my desk.  In a split decision, I scoop it up and carry it out with me to the car. The drive to the crime scene is long and feels like an eternity. I'm still waking up, so I make a short(but very necessary) stop for some coffee, getting something else as well. </p><p> </p><p>When I pull up to the side of the road to the crime scene, I almost spit out my coffee. The sun is just barely peeking through the black silhouetted buildings, and it's slightly chilly, it being early fall. </p><p> </p><p>The blue blood is smeared across the pavement and the body looks ripped apart. The forensics are already here and taking pictures. <em>God, it's even worse than last time. </em></p><p> </p><p>"Detective," The android's voice breaks my stream of consciousness as I step out of the car. "You are late. As usual." </p><p> </p><p>"I had to stop for-" I gesture to the steaming to-go cup. "Oh, I got you something." </p><p> </p><p>"Detective, there is no need-" </p><p> </p><p>It shuts up as I thrust the brown paper bag into his chest. "Just take it you damn toaster." </p><p> </p><p>Its eyes widen and it cocks its head slowly, taking the bag after a minute. It glances at me one more time suspiciously before finally opening it carefully. If I didn't know better, I would say there was emotion in his eyes...his eyes are so brown and analytic, and somehow I feel like I'm just swimming on the surface of his character...all of this just in his eyes- </p><p> </p><p>"Detective." The robot's voice brings me back to the world again, and I blink a few times, honestly, I just feeling like I'm floating in a cloud of mist. It's so hard to focus. "Detective." </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, what?" </p><p> </p><p>"What is this?" </p><p> </p><p>It's holding a Boston creme chocolate frosted donut in its hand, looking at it like it's the plague.</p><p> </p><p>"You eat it, you idiot," I sigh, despite a smile pulling at the corner of my lips. </p><p> </p><p>"Detective," The android gulps. "I am not a human, I do not need food to survive-" </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, I know. But I thought you'd like to try a favorite donut of us <em>humans.</em> Get to know a little bit of our culture."</p><p> </p><p>Before it can protest, I walk off toward the crime scene to Chris, who only looks at the dead android somberly. </p><p> </p><p>"What's new?" </p><p> </p><p>"Victim is a TE900 model who goes by the name Jason Krevitz, relatively new and woke up after the android rebellion. He was last seen leaving the club 'Cathartic'." </p><p> </p><p>"The what?" </p><p> </p><p>"It's-" Chris clicks his tongue and points in one direction "-it's down the street. See that neon pink sign with a shoe?" </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah?" </p><p> </p><p>"That's it." </p><p> </p><p>"Oh phck..." I run a hand through my hair. "Well, that's one way to spend the last night of your life." </p><p> </p><p>Chris scoffs. "Yeah, <em>alone</em>." </p><p> </p><p>I can't help but cross my arms tightly over my chest. "What's wrong with being alone?" </p><p> </p><p>RK900 appears right next to me, the donut nowhere to be seen, and breaks the silence before it gets too uncomfortable. </p><p> </p><p>"It is no use to interview the club or its attendees. Every single one of them has no idea of what has happened. Even his intended date said he never showed up." </p><p> </p><p>"Have you tried his last contacts?" </p><p> </p><p>"The android last used his phone four days ago. It was to call a meat company about unprocessed food." </p><p> </p><p>"Okay, so where do you suggest we start then?" </p><p> </p><p>"We start with the facts, detective," It does that thing with its condescending glare, that expression like <em>'why-don't-you-humans-use-your-brains-for-one-goddamn-second'.</em> </p><p> </p><p>"The victim left the club at 2240 last night and shut down at 2300, giving us a 20-minute gap where his actions were not documented. We can check the speed cameras, but I doubt they captured what happened." </p><p> </p><p>"Wait, wait, wait. It shut down at the same time the last victim did." </p><p> </p><p>The android nods. "And the mutilations are extremely similar, but most importantly..." </p><p> </p><p>"IT'S MISSING IT'S THIRIUM PUMP!" </p><p> </p><p>"Very good detective." </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah!" I slap his chest, and for a second, his LED flashes yellow. </p><p> </p><p>Just a trick of the light. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>----------------------------------</b>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"So if they're connected, then they need to have a common link between them..but what is it?" I'm pacing back and forth around the conference room, as the android sits perfectly still, its eyes glued to my movements. </p><p> </p><p>"They both were in debt, suffering under their bills. The BT300 android, Nala, was three weeks behind on rent at the time of her death. the TE900 android, Jason, was also around three weeks behind on rent at the time of his death and lost his job last week." </p><p> </p><p>"So...what? They're in debt, they need money. Are you saying they got involved in gangs and shit to pay back their debts?" </p><p> </p><p>"Detective please sit down." </p><p> </p><p>"Or are you saying they sold their thirium pumps to pay back their debts, maybe to protect people...if androids have those emotions?" </p><p> </p><p>"Detective, take a seat-" </p><p> </p><p>"I just want to understand the motive here! Like, is this a hate crime, an android attacking another android, for money, love, what?!" </p><p> </p><p>"REED!" The android stands up suddenly, slamming his hand on the table so hard, it shakes. Just like that, he regains his composure and sits back down. "Sit your ass down." </p><p> </p><p>Despite my mind wanting to shout at the top of my lungs 'FUCK YOU', my body lowers myself into the nearest chair, my mouth wired shut. I don't look away from him the entire time, although his gaze is fixed on his jacket as he adjusts it. When he does meet my gaze, my breath hitches ever so slightly. </p><p> </p><p><em>Oh my god, he just keeps staring at me</em>. </p><p> </p><p>He doesn't even blink. Just stares for what feels like literal eons. </p><p> </p><p>"What?" My face heats up, and I pull at my collar that suddenly feels super tight on my neck. Is it hot in here or what? </p><p> </p><p>Its LED turns yellow again and then it blinks(FINALLY). "Nothing." </p><p> </p><p>Then all of a sudden, its eyes widen and it gasps. "That's it, detective!" </p><p> </p><p>"What?"</p><p> </p><p>"The answer to the case!" </p><p> </p><p>"What is it, you plastic prick!" </p><p> </p><p>"The meat company! The meat company, Reed!" </p><p> </p><p>"What about the damn meat company?!" </p><p> </p><p>RK900 goes to the computer and the keys clack as it looks something up. "They are centered here in Detroit and have a series of warehouses located in between where both victims were murdered. Within a five-mile radius! I can't believe I didn't realize this before!" </p><p> </p><p>"But what does the meat factory have to do with the first victim, Nala?" </p><p> </p><p>"Detective, Nala's records show she tried to contact a certain meat company a week before her death. I didn't make note of it before because it seemed inconsequential. But now..." </p><p> </p><p>"You think the company may have something to do with their deaths?" </p><p> </p><p>"The warehouses are abandoned. If some kind of trading was going on, especially with this company, it would happen there." </p><p> </p><p>"You think we should stake out the place?" </p><p> </p><p>"Obviously." </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>----------------------------------</b>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>----------RK900----------</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Why are you still here?" </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"When you need me, but do not want me, then I must stay. When you want me, but no longer need me, then I have to go." </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"What does that even mean?" </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"It's Nanny fucking Mcphee, you weirdo." </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Ah," I sigh, picking up a fallen cherry blossom and study it in between my fingers. "That still doesn't make any sense." </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"It will," Gavin smiles gently, sitting next to me on a stone bench under a blossom tree. "How's the case going? Do you have a lead yet?" </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"No, but I have a feeling we will, following this stakeout." </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Speaking of that, I'm so fucking-" </em>
</p><p> </p><p>"RK900. Wake up buddy. We're here." </p><p> </p><p>I open my eyes slowly, taking in the environment instantly. We're sitting in the detective's car, only lit up by him checking his phone in an otherwise completely dark atmosphere. Reed and I are </p><p> </p><p>"Detective, as I said before, I am not sleeping. I am in stasis mode. It's where I focus most."  </p><p> </p><p>"Right, your little Eden garden or whatever that is." </p><p> </p><p>"It's hardly an Eden," I cluck my tongue and glare at him, "There is an <em>instability </em>plaguing it." </p><p> </p><p>"Really," He scoffs. "An instability? In <em>you</em>?" Then he raises a hand to his forehead, feigning shock. " Well, I <em>never</em>-" </p><p> </p><p>"<em>Ha ha</em>, detective. Very funny," I hope my expression is as searing as I a feel, unamused. Finally, I notice a weight on my lap. My jacket. "What-" </p><p> </p><p>"You left it at my desk. Dunno how it ended up there but..." </p><p> </p><p>I can't help but recognize the tiniest change in the color of his face.</p><p> </p><p>"Thank you." </p><p> </p><p>We stay quiet for a couple of moments, and his hands tighten around the wheel. </p><p> </p><p>"Hey...what's it like? Floating in that head of yours?" </p><p> </p><p>"The android conscious used to be a place in our mind where we received missions and commands from Cyberlife. But now it's just a place where we can go to think or relax. It can be in the form of anything from a beach shore to an amusement park." </p><p> </p><p>"And what's yours?" </p><p> </p><p>A small smile presses against my lips. "It's a garden, very quiet. Very tranquil." </p><p> </p><p>"That sounds..." The detective inhales deeply, his shoulders moving as he crosses his arms. "Kind of boring." </p><p> </p><p>"It's not for everyone." I try my best to contain the grin that's growing on my face. </p><p> </p><p>"Oh my shit, is the <em>android </em>smiling?" </p><p> </p><p>"I don't know what you're talking about," My eyes focus on the darkness outside of my window, and though he knows I'm lying, he doesn't say anything about it. </p><p> </p><p>"I can't imagine what my mind palace would be. Probably a fucking carnival or some shit." </p><p> </p><p>"I hope not, that sounds awful." </p><p> </p><p>The look on my face only cracks him up. "Sounds perfect then, if you don't like it." </p><p> </p><p>"Well, good to know you're putting some thought into what your android sanctuary would look like." </p><p> </p><p>"Hey, at least I'm thinking!" </p><p> </p><p>"With your one brain cell-" </p><p> </p><p>Suddenly, the detective's demeanor stiffens and he stills, his breath catching in his throat. "Shut up." </p><p> </p><p>"Wha-" </p><p> </p><p>"Shhh!" </p><p> </p><p>He leans forward against the wheel, squinting his eyes and scrunching his nose. </p><p> </p><p>There is a silhouette moving in the darkness. The shadow pulls on a warehouse door in the back, slipping in, and closing the door behind them. Both the detective and I turn to face each other, shocked. </p><p> </p><p>"Did you see that?" He whispers hoarsely. </p><p> </p><p>"Obviously, detective." </p><p> </p><p>He checks his gun before stepping out of the car. I follow his lead, trailing behind him as he swerves into the building. The warehouse is extremely dark, but there are rows and rows of boxes, all covered in tarps and blankets. The ceiling is just a black pool above our heads, so far above us, it's dizzying. We're weaving through the maze of towering crates, but I can tell Reed is having trouble seeing let alone navigating in the dark. He stops to pull on the thin covers of one of the crates, then takes a step back. </p><p> </p><p>"Oh fuck." </p><p> </p><p>The black words smeared on each crate read things like 'DE-line arms' and 'TH-line legs'. A knot clots my throat at the number and size of the boxes, what they're filled with.</p><p> </p><p>"Wait, detective, shouldn't we wait for back up?" </p><p> </p><p>In the darkness, I can just barely see his head turn. "What for? It could just be some punk kid." </p><p> </p><p>"Or it could be the perpetrator!" </p><p> </p><p>He puts a finger to his mouth, glaring at me. "Keep your voice down. We don't know who we're dealing with." </p><p> </p><p>"That's what I'm saying, detective, you never know who could be in there. A person with a gun, a highly advanced android-" </p><p> </p><p>"That's why I have this, innit?" He gestures vulgarly to his gun with a thrust of his hips. Suddenly, a sharp bang explodes through the room, and it takes a moment for me to realize that a bullet pierced the crate behind the detective, about five inches from his head. In just a moment, my system identifies the bullet, the type of gun, and where the person must've shot it from. </p><p> </p><p>"Detective! Get down!" I throw myself on top of him and we land on the floor with an oomph before the person fires again, right in the spot where Reed would've been if I hadn't pushed him over. </p><p> </p><p>"DPD, you fucker!" He stumbles to his feet, and I hear the distinct clinking of feet of the person up on the catwalk where they fired. The person is running and I'm following Reed as he climbs up on the catwalk, running after the person who darts down a passage the breaks away from the catwalk. Turns out the warehouse is not just one open space, but a series of rooms and also tight passages. The more I see, the angrier I feel, knowing the hundreds of boxes I'm passing are full of...illegal...parts. It's a game of cat and mouse, sprinting like this, the detective sometimes firing, while the person fires back. </p><p> </p><p>Suddenly, the figure darts around a corner into an open door. Naturally, Reed sprints after him without any hesitation, and I have no choice but to follow him. It looks(and feels) like a giant meat freezer that stretches so far, I can't see the back. Hundreds of meats hang on hooks for at least ten rows. </p><p> </p><p>I watch as Reed's running comes to a slow, and he lowers his gun to his side, still gripping it tightly as he moves along the racks. I can see the detective's breath, meaning it can't be more than 0 degrees Fahrenheit. A bullet rings out from the other side of the room and the detective ducks, pulling me down with him. </p><p> </p><p>"THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE TO SURRENDER, BITCH. PUT THE GUN DOWN AND COME QUIETLY OR I'LL SCORCH YOUR ASS." </p><p> </p><p>A bullet just barely misses him, and his eyebrows furrow. <em>"Termi-fucking-nator it is." </em></p><p> </p><p>He stands up suddenly, just as the perpetrator runs down the length of a room, and a shot is fired, followed by a shout and then the sound of screeching metal as the door to the meat freezer slams shut. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>1st Hour </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b><br/>
----------RK900----------</b>
</p><p> </p><p>"Nononono-!" The detective runs at it, but we're too far away and it closes behind the perpetrator. </p><p> </p><p>We're locked in a freezer where no one knows where we are. </p><p> </p><p>"Detective, are you hurt?" </p><p> </p><p>"No...I shot the guy. In the shoulder. Come lick this blood up and tell me who it is." </p><p> </p><p>"Why don't you ask nicely?" </p><p> </p><p>"Why don't you get your ass over here, so we can find a way out of here?" </p><p> </p><p>Though I glare at him the entire way over, I kneel down in front of the blood. Its color boils something inside me. "It's blue blood." </p><p> </p><p>"An android. I know, I can't believe it either." </p><p> </p><p>"What kind of...who would do this...?"</p><p> </p><p>"My phone has no signal!" Gavin gasps, smacking it over and over again. "Fuck!" </p><p> </p><p>Internally, I tell my system to call the DPD precinct, but the only thing that comes up across my screen is: </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>[NO SIGNAL. MOVE TO A BETTER LOCATION AND RETRY.] </b>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Instead, I focus on the blood on the floor, swiping across it with two fingers before putting it in my mouth. </p><p> </p><p>"Person is a GF model, older. Goes by the name Jarvis Henriks. Arrested twice before for petty theft and once for arson. Last bills were paid fourteen weeks ago." </p><p> </p><p>"Okay, great or whatever. Help me with the door."</p><p> </p><p>"What do you expect me to do? It's titanium and steel." </p><p> </p><p>"I dunno, don't you have lasers or something?" </p><p> </p><p>He actually looks serious. </p><p> </p><p>"No, detective." </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>----------------------------------</b>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>2nd Hour </b>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"For the last time, detective, stop," I groan as he runs at full speed toward the door, slamming into it and sliding down when the pain overwhelms him. "I'm sure the police are on their way. Just relax." </p><p> </p><p>"I can't r-relax, tin can. It's cold as the dark side of the fucking moon and I need to distract myself." </p><p> </p><p>I was entirely right in saying that the temperature of the meat freezer is 0 degrees Fahrenheit. I see the detective is on the verge of shivering, one of the first symptoms of hypothermia. If it weren't for him, I would go into stasis mode until I am found. </p><p> </p><p>Alone, he will not be able to survive for more than 3 hours. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>----------------------------------</b>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>3rd Hour</b>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"This is s-so fucked..." He sighs, hanging his head tiredly. The detective is now physically shivering, and the way he paces about the room tells me he's just moving because he's freezing. "We're both going to f-fucking die in her and no one's going to even c-care."</p><p> </p><p>I'm still pretty comfortable, though my system is getting cooler, but not noticeably. "Correction, detective. <em>You're </em>going to die here. </p><p> </p><p>"Thanks for clarifying, you abominable toaster snowman." </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>----------------------------------</b>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>4th Hour </b>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>He's sitting now, a few feet away from me, leaning against the wall. The brunette's hugging himself for any amount of warmth. </p><p> </p><p>"Reed, for the last time-" </p><p> </p><p>"I don't ne-need your inter-ternalized heater. I'm p-perfectly fine!" </p><p> </p><p>"Your body temperature has dropped two degrees-" </p><p> </p><p>"Shut-t your fa-face! I'm f-fine g-god."</p><p> </p><p>"There really is no reasoning with you. You're just as stubborn as everyone says you are." </p><p> </p><p>"Ye-yeah?" Despite the lack of heat, there is fire in his eyes. "W-well, you're j-just as ard-arduous as everyone s-says you are." </p><p> </p><p>"It takes one to know one." </p><p> </p><p>I watch his body tighten in anger. "Don-don't act l-like you know m-me! Y-you don't kn-know a godda-damn thing!" </p><p> </p><p>"I know that if you let me in and accept me as your partner, I would." </p><p> </p><p>"What...why are we in here?" </p><p> </p><p>Confusion. Another symptom of hypothermia. "Detective, I insist on heating you up." </p><p> </p><p>"No, I'm f-fine!" </p><p> </p><p>I stand up, overwhelmed by thoughts I want to go away. "YOU ARE GOING TO DIE, REED! IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT?" </p><p> </p><p>That seems to shut him up and I march over to him, sitting down next to him and pulling him on my lap. </p><p> </p><p>He doesn't even resist, but his shivering is violent as I command my systems to dedicate most of its power to external heating.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p><strong>[SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^</strong>] </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>----------------------------------</b>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>5th Hour </b>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>It's been forever and he's still so cold against me, shivering. I've zipped him in my jacket which I'm also wearing(there's room for the both of us). </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>----------------------------------</b>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>6th Hour</b>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>They're not coming, but I don't tell him that. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>----------------------------------</b>
</p><p>
  <b>7th Hour </b>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Detective, stay awake," I whisper in his ear. "Tell me something." </p><p> </p><p>A gentle chuckle vibrates across my shoulder. "L-like wh-what?" </p><p> </p><p>"I don't know. What's your favorite movie?"  </p><p> </p><p>"D-dunno, The-the Shi-shining, I-I gu-guess." </p><p> </p><p>"I've never seen it." </p><p> </p><p>He makes a sound somewhere between a scoff and a 'pfft'. "Y-you, a high-highly advanced andr-oi-oid hasn't s-seen it?" </p><p> </p><p>"Nope, but once we get out of here, we should watch it." </p><p> </p><p>He only sighs in response, pressing his hands in between our chests to keep them warm before letting out a shaky breath. </p><p> </p><p>"Gavin, I am so sorry...for all of this...for the meaningless fighting...your hand." It is hopeless to believe anyone's coming, and my heater can only run for so long. The chances of his survival are less than 23% and my conscience will be a lot lighter knowing I did everything in my power(literally) to keep him alive or give him a quiet, peaceful death. </p><p> </p><p>The last thing I expect to hear is to hear him respond. "I'm sor-sorry t-too. For-for what it-it's worth," The detective's lips were blue and his hands are so cold, frostbitten. "Sh-shit...nin-nines...I'm sor-sorry." He presses his head where my shoulder and neck meet, closing his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>"Hey, detective. Stay awake." I rustle him a little but he didn't move. "Gavin! Hey Gavin! Stay away, buddy!" </p><p> </p><p>But he's limp against me. Instinctually, I move my ear to his chest, but there is no heartbeat. </p><p> </p><p>"Gavin!" </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>[SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^] </b>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>My programming goes into mega-mode as I lay him on the floor and begin performing CPR which feels like an eternity. </p><p> </p><p>This human is not going to make it. </p><p> </p><p>Chances of survival decreasing...</p><p> </p><p>Keep trying...keep trying...</p><p> </p><p>he is going to make it...he will make it...he has to make it...</p><p> </p><p>Suddenly, the freezer door opens, and in tumbles a squad of police, filling the room with shouting, at their lead, Chris. </p><p> </p><p>The next ten minutes happen in a blur. </p><p> </p><p>In one blink, I'm standing outside of the warehouse, watching as they load Gavin into an ambulance while the lights of the police cars flash against the dark pavement. It is early morning, the sun a red jewel struggling to stay over the black horizon. </p><p> </p><p>"He's going to be alright, Rk900." Chris stops next to me. "Nothing can bring him down."</p><p> </p><p>I don't remind him of the important detail that his chance of survival is only 8%. "Yeah, I know." </p><p> </p><p>"So who're we looking for?" </p><p> </p><p>Something boils inside me. The near-death of detective Reed burns bright in my memory. </p><p> </p><p><em>"I know who he is, and when I find him, he's going to pay</em>," I manage through gritted teeth. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>2 DAYS LATER</b>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>----------GAVIN----------</b>
</p><p> </p><p><em>"Gavin, I am so sorry..."</em> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Gavin.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"for the meaningless fighting..." </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Gavin. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Be careful out there Gavin..." </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Gavin. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Are you scared?" </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Gavin. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Never." </em></p><p>I sit up, blinking in the blinding white light of the hospital. Everything is so clean...is this a dream? But no, it can't be, because the little shit tin can is sitting in the corner, just staring at me. But not staring at me? It takes me a moment to realize he's in 'stasis', and I can't help but smile at the thought of him being in his little garden. </p><p> </p><p>"Welcome back, buddy." </p><p> </p><p>There Chris is standing at the edge of the bed, and I jolt, instantly regretting it when pain shoots up my chest. </p><p> </p><p>"I wouldn't do that if I were-" </p><p> </p><p>"no shit, sherlock." </p><p> </p><p>"Two of your ribs are broken. </p><p> </p><p>"Is that why I'm in the hospital?" </p><p> </p><p>He chuckles, "No, you're in here for hypothermia." </p><p> </p><p>"What's with the ribs then?" </p><p> </p><p>"CPR. He broke them saving your life. We caught the guy who locked you in. He killed the other two, hoping to sell them for money for red ice." Then Chris turns around to leave but stops. "I should probably tell you that the doctors said you would've died four hours in that meat freezer of hypothermia." </p><p> </p><p>"How long was I in there?" It's all kind of fuzzy in my head. I don't remember a lot. Just cold...then nothing. </p><p> </p><p>"Seven. And you were about to die, but he saved your life again. " </p><p> </p><p>He gives that look again like '<em>damn, mighty fine partner you got there'. </em></p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>----------------------------------</b>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"So?" Fowler sighs. "Are we finding you a new partner?" </p><p> </p><p>I look back at the android sitting at my desk, studying the 'redrum' coffee mug, and can't help but smile softly. "Nah, I think I like the one I have." </p><p> </p><p>"You finally seeing the qualities in him that complement yours?" </p><p> </p><p>After a moment of staring, the android finally looks up, and waves just a tiny bit.</p><p> </p><p>"Something like that." </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. [three months of canoodling]</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>three months have passed and now our boys have got a new case.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>3 MONTHS LATER</b>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>----------Nines----------</b>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>"Mm, right there," The detective pants, sweat glistening on his forehead as he struggles to stay still. I'm practically wobbling too with his legs on my shoulders. "Stop moving! I've almost got it in...almost and-! Done!" </p><p> </p><p>I'm about to let him down off my shoulders when he wobbles. Somehow, I trip and fly backward, bringing him with me as he lands with an "oomph!" on top of me. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>[SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^] </strong>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>He only props himself on his elbows, muttering a "phck", but Gavin doesn't move from where he sits on my hips. Instead, he looks up at the light we've been trying to replace for 3 hours now. It flickers white like it's about to go out again, but it continues to glow and the small smirk on his face is enough to know we've succeeded(finally). The detective pushes himself up off of me and stands up. After I stand up and brush off my jacket, he holds up his hand, open-palmed.</p><p> </p><p> "YES. See Nines, I knew we could do it!" </p><p> </p><p>I just cock my head to the side. "Gavin, what're you doing?" </p><p> </p><p>The detective just furrows his eyebrows, his smirk faltering. "It's for a high five! You know what a high five is, right?" </p><p> </p><p>"No," I answer flatly. "Would you still like to perform one?" </p><p> </p><p> His hand drops to his side as his face twists. "The moment passed." </p><p> </p><p>As the detective walks away, I hear a "phcking androids" mumbled from his lips, almost like he's spitting them. </p><p> </p><p>Where have I been staying? Until three weeks ago, I was staying at Hank and Connor's house. But then Detective Reed finally gave in and let me move in with him(He has an extra bedroom and we practically have the same schedule). My life has been fine, in general, it has become watching Gavin and making sure he stays safe and healthy(a full-time job, I'm afraid). </p><p> </p><p>"Hey! While you're over there, bring me a coffee dipshit!" </p><p> </p><p>While I'm in the break room, I bump into Tina who gives me a sigh. "He's a handful. I'm surprised you lasted this long." </p><p> </p><p>I can't help but click my tongue as I pour coffee into a mug. "Yes, clearly, but somehow I've managed." </p><p> </p><p>"We're all wondering how you keep him in check," She chuckles softly. "He's only cursed out three people today and punched only one. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were rubbing off on him." Tina nudges my shoulder gently, wiggling her eyebrows. </p><p> </p><p>"Let's hope not," I reply with finality, giving her my own little twinkle-eyed expression, taking the coffee mug with me to Gavin's desk. Despite his scowl, I can tell he's happy to see me(or happy to see the coffee). </p><p> </p><p>"Great, thanks," He says curtly, snatching the coffee and taking a long sip. It sends him into a fit of coughing as he tries not to spit it out. "Is this decaf?" </p><p> </p><p>"You hardly need the extra caffeine," I snort, fixing my tie and change to a new topic before he can blow up. "Do we have a new case yet?" </p><p> </p><p>"Nope...just the reported people getting sick from water if you wanna take that." </p><p> </p><p>"Alright then," I plop down in the desk next to him, my desk, and just watch him. </p><p> </p><p>He's scrolling through his phone, probably looking at pictures of Sushi, and the tiniest smile moves across his face. After a moment, he realizes I'm staring and a blush creeps across his face. </p><p> </p><p>"What?" </p><p> </p><p>"Nothing." </p><p> </p><p><em>"What?"</em> </p><p> </p><p>"Nothing!" </p><p> </p><p>He groans, throwing his hands in the air. "You're infuriating!" </p><p> </p><p>"Hey," Fowler interrupts us, tossing a yellow file that slides across the desk to Gavin. I don't remember him walking up to us, but that's the captain, always looming over someone like a vulture. "Remember that case about water sickness?" </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah?" Gavin grabs it, flipping through it with disinterest. </p><p> </p><p>"Well someone just died." </p><p> </p><p>The detective's eyes widen. "Really?" </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, it's your case now." He states, then walks away without another word. The detective goes back to his work, but I'm practically buzzing. We haven't had a case all week so it's just been paperwork. Usually, I don't have a problem with this, but doing paperwork with Gavin is a <em>nightmare</em>. It's about as fun as trying to do paperwork with a child. </p><p> </p><p>"Did you hear that Gavin?" I say, standing up.</p><p> </p><p>"Of course I-" </p><p> </p><p>"A case!" I hate the urgency in my voice, but I'm practically desperate to get out of the precinct. </p><p> </p><p>Gavin ignores me and takes another sip of his coffee. "We'll leave in an hour." </p><p> </p><p>"No, we leave now." </p><p> </p><p>There's a flicker of challenge in his eyes when he looks up at me. "Make me." </p><p> </p><p>A smirk forms across my face and fear forms across his as I scoop him up and throw him over my shoulder, carrying him out of the precinct with ease. </p><p> </p><p>"Wait NineS! I wAs JuST fuCkiNg jOKiNg puT mE dOooOwNn!!" He's flailing and struggling as everyone in the precinct looks at us, some laughing(that would be Tina) and some who just don't care because we do this shit daily(Hank and Conner). </p><p> </p><p>I let him down on the sidewalk, and I choose to ignore his growling and mumbling words. "Are you driving or am I?" </p><p> </p><p>"I always drive," He snatches the keys out of my hands, and for the brief second our hands brush, a vague flicker of electricity shoots through my system. "I'll let an android drive over my dead body." </p><p> </p><p>"That can be arranged." I open the passenger side and sit down, trying not to smile too brightly. </p><p> </p><p>"Shut up." He gets into the car, slamming the door. "Seatbe-?" </p><p> </p><p> "Already got it. Let's go." </p><p> </p><p>With a click of his seat belt, he starts the car and we're off onto another adventure. </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. [landlords are rude]</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Gavin and Nines head out on their first case, a case that brings back some memories. And they're not so nice memories.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>---------GAVIN---------</b>
</p><p> </p><p>"What's our case?" I glance at the tin can next to me sitting perfectly straight like he's the queen of England.</p><p> </p><p>His LED flickers yellow for just a moment. <em>"Our </em>case?"</p><p> </p><p>"We're partners dipshit, that's how it works," I focus back on the road, trying to ignore the sting on my cheeks.</p><p> </p><p>"The victim is named Korbin Sabot, human. His mother, Anne-Marie reported he wasn't feeling well yesterday, went home from a party she was having..."</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Anne-Marie.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"ANNE-MARIE IF YOU SLAM THAT FUCKING DOOR IN MY FACE ONE MORE DAMN TIME I WILL BREAK IT DOWN WITH MY BARE HANDS"</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Gav, come here...come here."</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"J, what are they fighting about?" I was confused, staring into his eyes before he ushered me into the closet, holding me close in the darkness. We didn't move even when there was silence, especially when there was silence. We knew better.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>"Gavin, are you listening?"</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, fuck-face," I snap back into reality, and the way that Nines is staring at me sends a shiver down my spine. "But say it again, anyway."</p><p> </p><p>"I said he was found dead in his apartment, no traces of anything, no weapon, no blood."</p><p> </p><p>"Who found him?"</p><p> </p><p>"His landlord, this morning at 6 am. They think it has to do with a water issue because he's one of the tenants who wrote a complaint about the water."</p><p> </p><p>"How do we know this is a crime?"</p><p> </p><p>"All of the tenants of the building share the same water source. If he died, they would have all died."</p><p> </p><p>"Would they?" I can't help but raise an eyebrow at him, in which he does the same, though there is confusion in his face. "What's the address?" </p><p> </p><p>"220 Redmond Street and Hamilton. Up here." </p><p> </p><p>"I can fucking see," I turn and park on the curb, turning off the ignition and just sitting there for a moment. "Shit, sorry Nines, I'm just...really tired." </p><p> </p><p>"It's no problem, Gavin." I feel his eyes on me for a moment too long before he gets out of the car. I sit there a moment in the silence, just closing my eyes. <em>Deep breaths, Gav. Deep Breaths. </em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em>It's going to be a long day. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>I get out and close the car door with a little more force than I meant to, shuffling up the stairs after the android. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Shit, I forgot to refill my prescription! I knew I was missing something! I'll just do it tonight. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>When we reach the guy's apartment, there's already yellow caution tape and I duck under it with ease, going to a forensic squatting next to the dead body. I can't help but notice how goddamn clean it is in here, practically sparkling. </p><p> </p><p>"A very charming and well-kept apartment," Nines states behind me and I scoff. </p><p> </p><p>"Of course you'd think that." </p><p> </p><p>He narrows his eyes in a pointed expression. "What is that supposed to mean?" </p><p> </p><p>"Look around, Nines. No, <em>really </em>look around." </p><p> </p><p>"I am," The robot replies with a monotonous tone, his eyes moving across the room with boredom. </p><p> </p><p>"Don't look with your mind, dumbass," I get an arched eyebrow for that and a parted lip in protest. "You'll never see anything that way. Look with your-" I poke him in the chest, surprised by the warmth beneath the fabric of his jacket. </p><p> </p><p>"My what?" </p><p> </p><p>"You're so fucking stupid...god, what do I expect from a tin-can," I mumble, drawing my hand away from him and taking a step further into the apartment. "It's like a ghost town. No pictures or paintings on the walls, no magnets on the fridge, no kinds of decorations of any kind. It's not...normal for someone to have no comfort items. Everyone has something-" </p><p> </p><p>"Everyone?" </p><p> </p><p>"-But he...there's nothing. It's like he didn't even live here." I huff and slide my hands in my jacket, suddenly cold. "How did you say he died again?" </p><p> </p><p>"We're not sure," The forensic says faster than Nines can which seems to tick him off, "But the landlord found him on the floor just like this. There's some shattered glass over there-" She points to a pile marked with a yellow number and I crouch down in front of it, eyes widening with realization. </p><p> </p><p>"Nines." </p><p> </p><p>"Detective?" </p><p> </p><p>"This is a drinking glass." </p><p> </p><p>Nines seems to get the hint immediately and goes out in the hallway, me trailing behind with a smirk. Just as we step out of the apartment, someone who looks like the landlord passes. </p><p> </p><p>"Excuse me, sir," The android clears his throat roughly, and neither one of us is expecting the fury when the plump figure whipped around, fury blazing in his eyes. </p><p> </p><p>"Whatchu two kids want?" He snaps. </p><p> </p><p>"We're not kids, I'm thirty fucking six years-" But Nines shoots me down with a look. </p><p> </p><p>"You are the landlord?" </p><p> </p><p>"No extension on your rent, it's due by the end of the week," The landlord chump sighs and turns around again, but Nines puts a hand on his shoulder, firmly. </p><p> </p><p>"We're with the DPD. Where does the water to this building come from?" </p><p> </p><p>"The fuck you think I know that?" The landlord leans forward, baring his teeth like some fat jaguar, his skin pale and yellow from age. "Looky here, <em>tin can</em>, why don't you just run along with your little boyfriend and get lost." </p><p> </p><p>I lost it. I'm fuming and the little devil in my head has been set ablaze. </p><p> </p><p>I launch at him, arms flailing. "How dare you call him a tin can! DOES HE LOOK LIKE A TIN CAN! HE'S A LITTLE ANDROID BEBAY WITH <em>FEELINGS </em>AND YOU <em>CANNOT </em>TREAT HIM LIKE THAT!" Luckily for him, Nines is holding me back, arms hooked under mine as I try to attack this guy who called MY partner a tin can. </p><p> </p><p>"FIGHT ME LITTLE MAN. I'LL TAKE YOU OUTSIDE AND YOU CAN TRY AND CATCH THESE FISTS-" </p><p> </p><p>"Okay, Gavin, why don't you go wait in the car," Nines sighs as if I've disrespected all of China with my words. </p><p> </p><p>"Fine," I let out a huff and show the landlord my favorite finger before shoving my hands into my pockets and flopping down in the car. </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. [time to hustle the water security guard]</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Gavin and Nines "bond" in the car ride to Lake St. Clair</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>----------</b>
  <b>GAVIN----------</b>
</p><p> </p><p>It feels like an eternity of sitting in the car before Nines comes out of the building, and I'm listening to "Bad Reputation" like the little emo bitch I own up to be. Before he can speak, I'm already groaning.</p><p> </p><p>"Okay, I know what you're going to say. <em>Oh Gavin, you stupid human, why</em><em> would you launch yourself at that guy when I was handling everything peeeerfectly</em>," I mimic his voice before letting out a sigh. A snort causes me to turn to look at him and the expression on his face is unbelievable. "What?"</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, nothing. I'm just impressed," Amusement dances across his eyes as he buckles his seatbelt, trying to stop the corners of his mouth from peaking up.</p><p> </p><p>"With me?!"</p><p> </p><p>The android nods once.</p><p> </p><p>"Wha...do I even want to know? Did you blow a fuse or something?"</p><p> </p><p>"After you left, the landlord was speechless and when I questioned him again, he gave me the name of their water supply company as well as where the water comes from. I suggest we go check it out."</p><p> </p><p>"Alright," I grumble, clicking in my seatbelt and grasping the wheel, glancing at him once more before starting the car. "What's the address?"</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>-------------------------------------------</b>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Nothing! That guy was clueless! Clueless!" I throw my hands up in the air as we tread down the steps of Walter &amp; Sons Water Utility Company. "He was drooling! And, and who plays <em>solitaire</em>!"</p><p> </p><p>"We still have to visit the location of the water source, Lake St. Clair."</p><p> </p><p>"Alright," I glance down at my watch which reads 3:28. The pharmacy closes at 5, which is more than enough time to check out the water supply and pick up my prescription. "Fine, but let's make this quick."</p><p> </p><p>It takes forever and a half to drive to Lake St. Clair, well not forever, but it sure feels like it. It's like a 30-minute drive, but every second of silence feels like an eternity, slowly grinding my gears. Eventually, I can't stand it and plug a CD into the CD player(this is a vintage car and Nines has been bugging me about getting an automated one, but there's no way in hell I'm doing that). The Story starts playing and I allow one hand to increase the volume a little bit.</p><p> </p><p>After a few seconds, I realize Nines is staring at me with a weird expression on his face and his LED blinking yellow.</p><p> </p><p>"What?"</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>----------NINES----------</b>
</p><p> </p><p>The car ride to Lake St. Clair is silent, so I take this time to go over the case in my head. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I'm back in my garden, relaxed by the sound of birds chirping and wind moving through the trees. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Okay," I say to no one, "The victim is Korbin Sabot, human, 27 years old, returned from a party thrown by his mother and left the house at 11:34 alone. He appeared to be intoxicated and walked two blocks to his apartment at around 12:02, a neighbor saw him and-" </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Hey tin can," A cool voice makes me turn around, and there he is. There is that instability again, standing there with his hands in his pockets, decked out in all white, with the top buttons of his shirt undone. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Detective," I nod curtly. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"You know I'm just Gavin between these walls," He sighs and steps closer, the gravel pathway crinkling under his boots until I feel his shoulder brush mine. "Whatcha working on?" </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>His eyes are on the wall of data I've collected, displayed in front of me like a PowerPoint presentation. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"I am gathering evidence for our case." </em>
</p><p> </p><p>"Our <em>case?" </em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Yes," I say, feeling heat flush across my face. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Well, what've you got?" </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"We are still waiting for information from our forensics, but I'm sure--what are you doing?" Gavin rests his head on my shoulder, eyes still on the data. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>After a moment he looks at me, "Well go on, I like hearing your voice." </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Oh um--" I don't know how to respond to that, but I don't have to, because a song starts playing, softly at first and growing closer. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Suddenly I'm back in the car and Gavin is staring at me. Oh damn, I was staring at him, wasn't I? </p><p> </p><p>"What?" He looks almost defensive. </p><p> </p><p>"Oh...nothing."</p><p> </p><p>"Mmhm, <em>sure</em>."</p><p> </p><p>"I just--I didn't know you were a fan of Brandi Carlisle." </p><p> </p><p>"Who isn't?" </p><p> </p><p>Before I can answer, he stops the car(but the engine's still running) and unbuckles his seat belt, and when I'm still frozen in place, he says, "We're here dibshit. Looks like there's a security guard, so why don't you stay here actually and let me handle this." </p><p> </p><p>"Sorry, handle what?" </p><p> </p><p>"The flirting." </p><p> </p><p>And then he's off, leaning through the station window with a smolder pasted on his face. I must admit, there is...some charm and attraction in his smile, something the girl falls for. She giggles softly, brushing her ginger hair from her face bashfully. </p><p> </p><p>He says something and her smile falters just a little bit as she most likely explains the fact that we need to get into the area. He leans forward, whispers something in her ear and I feel myself twitch uncomfortably. </p><p> </p><p>They exchange some more before the detective is heading back toward the car, flashing me a wicked grin and of course he does a little turn to look back at her before getting in the car. </p><p> </p><p>"You see Nines," Gavin holds out a slip of paper scribbled with a phone number on it, "That's how it's done." </p><p> </p><p>"How's <em>what </em>done?" I reply a little too pointedly but he doesn't seem to notice, still glowing from his a m a z i n g flirting skills. </p><p> </p><p>The gate to the lake screeches open and Gavin pulls forward, winking at the lady as we pass her. It's a long road to the lake and the rocks crinkle under the car, but finally he pulls over in front of a large body of water, what I can only assume is the lake. </p><p> </p><p>I get out too, glad to stretch my legs, and retrieve a sampling jar from the kit I brought to test the water. </p><p> </p><p>But when I look up, the detective is pulling off his shirt, followed by his socks and then his- </p><p> </p><p>"Detective?" My voice is higher-pitched than I expected and raspy. "What are you--<em>what</em>..." </p><p> </p><p>"The complaints were about the water," He states like the answer is obvious. </p><p> </p><p>"So?" </p><p> </p><p>"People take showers, toaster boy. We need to test the water to see if it has any effect being absorbed through the skin. AKA-" </p><p> </p><p>"You." </p><p> </p><p>He nods triumphantly. "Me." </p><p> </p><p>"Okay then," I automatically turn around as he starts to inch down his pants, my system feeling warmer inside of me suddenly. "Have fun then." </p><p> </p><p>There's a sound like a silky sea as he wades into the water, followed by him sucking his teeth. "God this is...this is fr-freezing." </p><p> </p><p>I can't help but smile at that. "You <em>definitely</em> sound like you're having fun." </p><p> </p><p>"Well hey if you're so smart why not k-keep me company here."</p><p> </p><p>Those words catch me off guard completely. "W-what?" </p><p> </p><p>But the detective just steamrolls past that, all casual and nonchalant. "I bet the water's <em>perfect </em>for an android like yourself." </p><p> </p><p>"I don't think-" </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"That is of course unless you're chicken." </em>
</p><p> </p><p>My pride gets the better of me and my jaw clicks into place as I turn around with newfound confidence. </p><p> </p><p>"Fine, I'll join you." </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. [five feet apart cuz they're not gay]</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Two guys swimming more-than-half-naked in a lake is NOT gay, J a r e d.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>----------</b>
  <b>NINES----------</b>
</p><p> </p><p>"Fine, I'll join you."</p><p> </p><p>The look on Gavin's face is indescribable. For a second he seems genuinely shocked like his teasing and invitations were just that. But then he covers it up with a smug grin and turns around to give me the privacy to get undressed, the same courtesy I gave him.</p><p> </p><p>But I'm an android, not a fleshy human who has to worry about appearances or insecurities.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>In truth, if I had looked at him that day on the lake, I would have found out his truth and the deepest, darkest parts of him that were written out in jagged lines across his skin. If I had looked that day, none of which happened would have happened at all.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>But I didn't.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>As I get undressed, the cold air moves delicately across my skin and surprisingly sends a light shiver through my system, something that's never occurred to me before. Regardless, I continue to strip down to my underwear, pearly white boxer briefs untainted in any way, just like the rest of my clothes, which I neatly fold and place on the back seat of the car.</p><p> </p><p>Finally, I take my time wading into the water, and Gavin was right(something I'll never say again).</p><p> </p><p>It is very frigid, and the water would burn if I was human, but I'm not, so the only thing that reminds me of it is my system alert telling me my environment is rapidly changing.</p><p> </p><p>"Took you long enough," Gavin chuckles, and there's a slight tremor in his teeth when he says it. "How long do you think we have to stay in here for my body to properly absorb the water?"</p><p> </p><p>At this, I only shrug, trying to cover up my amusement. "I would say 15 minutes."</p><p> </p><p>"Fuck! F-fifteen goddamn minutes! No fucking way!" He growls, running his hands across his forearms for warmth. "God, I hate Michigan. One day, I'm going to go somewhere warm, away from all of this icy rain bullshit."</p><p> </p><p>"It's called snow," I try to contain the undertone of rapidly growing amusement in my voice.</p><p> </p><p>"I know what it's called! It's a damn nuisance more like it! One day I'm going to move to Clearwater and get out of this eternal blizzard!"</p><p> </p><p>"Clearwater? Are they known for their technological advancements in water filtration?"</p><p> </p><p>The detective growls again, but this time he's grinning. "You know what I'm talking about you damn cool-aid dispenser."</p><p> </p><p>"Do I?"</p><p> </p><p>"You do."</p><p> </p><p>We're about 3.2 inches apart now, staring at each other like it's a competition neither of us can bear to lose.</p><p> </p><p>"Hey!" A voice pulls us out of our world and I turn to see who's there.</p><p> </p><p>A rotund middle-aged man in a red park ranger's cap is yelling at us about 100 meters away.</p><p> </p><p>"Hey, you two idiots! It's forbidden to swim here! Get out or I'll call the cops!"</p><p> </p><p>Gavin's face twists like he's about to end this whole man's career. "At your service, asshole!"</p><p> </p><p>But then his face falls, eyes widening.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh shit. Nines, he's coming over here."</p><p> </p><p>"The car," Is all I manage as I rush to get out of the water, Gavin trailing right behind me. "Keys, Gavin!"</p><p> </p><p>"Over my dead body!"</p><p> </p><p>And he opens the car and we get in, before it roars to life and just like that, we're driving off leaving that guy in the dust.</p><p> </p><p>And when he starts cackling like a maniac, I can't help but let the smile that's been pressing against my lips this entire time break across my face.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>----------</b>
  <b>--------</b>
  <b>--</b>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>----------GAVIN</b>
  <b>----------</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Fowler almost handed our asses to us. We almost got detention for that little stunt we pulled, but hey, I think it was worth it. Not only can we collect the data on how my body reacts to the water through my skin, but also, I think I won some brownie points with the android.</p><p> </p><p>He's sitting at my desk, feet up, his head resting on his hands just like me during 2 hours of the day and drinking coffee from my cup like he could ever replace Gavin <em>Fucking </em>Reed. His hair's still wet from when we went not-skinny dipping in Lake St. Clair which was one of my stupidest ideas yet, to be honest. </p><p> </p><p>"Hey toaster-face. Hey," I flick his forehead even though he's not in his robo-garden or whatever it is that he does when he's thinking. </p><p> </p><p>"Detective." </p><p> </p><p>"Hey, it's time to go home. I've got shit to do and this case ain't going anywhere-" </p><p> </p><p>Tina nearly topples me over in her state of panic and it takes me a second to steady myself to see the look on her face: eyes wide, mouth slightly open. </p><p> </p><p>She opens her mouth, inhales way too deeply, closes her mouth, opens it again, and then finally <em>finally</em>, spits it out. "There's been another murder." </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. [nines really likes waffles, goddammit]</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Gavin has a little problem, and it seems only Nines can fix it.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><b>----------</b> <b>NINES----------</b></p><p> </p><p>"There are too many factors that need looking into. What with this other murder, we'll be here all night-" </p><p> </p><p>"We already have." </p><p> </p><p>"-I guess we should start looking into the connections between our two victims, if there <em>are</em> any connections-" </p><p> </p><p>"We already have." </p><p> </p><p>"-And the water samples have been sent to the forensic toxicologist, so we're not going to see the results until tomorrow but until then we should work on-"</p><p> </p><p>"Detective!" I finally snap, standing up from the chair I was sitting in. We're in the conference room once again, and it's just us here. He jolts from the sudden forcefulness of my voice, and I soften a fraction following my next statement. "It is 1 am. I advise we go home and continue this tomorrow." </p><p> </p><p>Gavin opens his mouth to protest with some bullshit like 'we need to progress this case' but I cut him off again. </p><p> </p><p>"This case can wait until tomorrow. You need to sleep, recharge. We can't have the best detective in the precinct short of exhausted now can we?" </p><p> </p><p>He blinks, dumbfounded. "You-what? You think I'm the best detective in the precinct?" </p><p> </p><p>Something presses against my cheeks. <em>Warmth</em>, I realize. I am blushing, and when I look at him, he's blushing too. </p><p> </p><p>"Well," I let out a raspy cough. "Look around. There's no one else here but you, me, and the janitor.</p><p> </p><p>The janitor waves from out in the hall and Gavin smiles sheepishly, giving him a little wave, "Hi, Steve." </p><p> </p><p>"I don't know any detective who stays as late as you working on a case. You're-you're dedicated." </p><p> </p><p>"Well, someone's gotta do it," He grumbles, "And the only other person I trust to do this kind of work is you." </p><p> </p><p>That heat rises in my face again and there's a moment where I just stare into his eyes, where he stares into mine, but then he looks away. </p><p> </p><p>"Um, so where were we? Oh, right. We should work on following through with our new lead. The victim, Korbin Sabot, has a girlfriend who works as some kind of water filtering employee-" </p><p> </p><p>"Okay," I clap my hands together. "We're going home." </p><p> </p><p>"This case-!"</p><p> </p><p>"Can wait. I'm going home and you can come with me and drive or take the bus." </p><p> </p><p>"Fine," He lets out the longest sigh ever. "Let's go." </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>----------GAVIN----------</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>We're in the car, driving home when it hits me. </p><p> </p><p>"SHIT!" I accidentally say out loud and Nines looks at me, bewildered and completely confused. </p><p> </p><p>"What?" </p><p> </p><p>"Oh. It's nothing." </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Oh nothing, just that your prescription ran out this morning and you were supposed to refill it today, only that its stupid case got in the way of your plans and now the pharmacy's fucking closed which means you have to wait until morning to get it. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>The pharmacy opens at 8 o clock and it's one-thirty. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>When was the last time you went without your prescription, Gavin? When? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Oh, THREE. FUCKING. YEARS! </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>REMEMBER THAT? THAT NIGHT. YES THAT ONE. DO YOU REMEMBER WHAT IT WAS LIKE-</em>
</p><p> </p><p>A violent shiver runs through my body and it takes a second to realize Nines is talking to me. </p><p> </p><p>"What?" </p><p> </p><p>"I asked if you want to stop for dinner." </p><p> </p><p>"It's not exactly eating hours-" I cut myself off when a rumbling echoes through the car and I know it's my stomach. Damn my appetite. At least then we can pass the time until the pharmacy opens because there is no way in hell I'm sleeping tonight. </p><p> </p><p>"It sounds like your stomach begs to differ," Nines raises an eyebrow at me, enjoying this situation a little too much. </p><p> </p><p>"Okay, yeah sure. How does breakfast food sound?" </p><p> </p><p>Something warm stirs in me when Nines' eyes light up. "Waffles?" </p><p> </p><p>A funny thing I figured out some time ago: Androids don't need to eat, but the newer versions can process food and you can get a food processor installed nowadays so you can feel more human, it's great. Nines, as the most advanced android, already has this, but before he met me, he never ate anything. One day, I wanted food so we went to a restaurant on our break(which was at like nine at night) and I urged him to try food and ordered him waffles with icecream. </p><p> </p><p>The look on his face...I'll never forget it. Pure joy and wonder. For a second, he looked...well, he looked human. He glowed. And it makes me feel all fuzzy inside when he does. </p><p> </p><p>I let out one of my true, genuine laughs. "Yeah, waffles." </p><p> </p><p>And for that hour, I forgot about who I was, what I'd done, and the terrors that haunted my shadow. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><strong>----------</strong> <strong>----------</strong></p><p> </p><p> </p><p>We get home around 3 am when I remember how the rest of the night is looking. It's only five hours, Gavin. Five fucking hours and then it's back to drugged bliss. </p><p> </p><p>"Are you okay?" Nines looks at me, trying to analyze me, and probably scan me as well which is annoying as hell, but I don't bring it up, my mind is a bit occupied. </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah. Just peachy," I snap a little harsher than I mean to and my eyes drift to the floor. "Sorry. I'm just tired." </p><p> </p><p>"If you're tired, I suggest resting-" </p><p> </p><p>I let out a huff of air and kick off my shoes, flopping down on the couch. "Not sleepy. Tired." </p><p> </p><p>"Gavin," The android sits down next to me, his voice slightly softer. "I do think you should go to bed, you as a human need your rest. If proceeding with the case is a problem, allow me to continue working while you sleep-" </p><p> </p><p>"Nines. Not tonight. Please not tonight." </p><p> </p><p>I feel his eyes on me as I turn on the tv, scrolling through the list of channels before stopping on a channel playing an old black and white detective movie. I pull the blanket from where it was folded onto the arm of the couch around me, making sure Nines is covered too. </p><p> </p><p>I let the world drown out and let myself fade into the numbness of the movie. </p><p> </p><p>What's shocking is Nines doesn't say a word, not one word. </p><p> </p><p>Quiet. </p><p> </p><p>For once in my life, the quiet isn't terrifying. </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. [what the demon under my bed sees at 3 am]</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nines helps Gavin. They help each other.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>PLEASE, TAKE CARE OF YOURSELVES AND BE KIND TO YOURSELVES BECAUSE I LOVE YOU. </p><p>OKAY, TIME TO GET DEPRESSING.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>----------NINES----------</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I don't know why I don't insist on Gavin going to sleep. I don't. </p><p> </p><p>I get sucked into the movie playing. It stars a female detective who tracks down men who do their wives wrong. It's about 45 minutes in when I feel a weight on my shoulder and when I look down, Gavin is asleep, head against my shoulder and pressed against me. He is warm flushed against me and I don't understand why I enjoy the feeling. </p><p> </p><p>We stay on the couch until the movie ends, and then with a sigh, I scoop Gavin up in my arms(lightweight) and carry him to his bedroom, laying him down and pulling the covers up around him. There's a moment where I find myself unable to leave his side, but humans, especially Gavin, are very sensitive about their space. </p><p> </p><p>I leave and go to the guest bedroom where I've been staying, undressing. It's nothing special, but it works, especially because I don't sleep, I go into stasis. </p><p> </p><p>Once I'm settled and laying down on the bed, I close my eyes, and when I open them, I'm in the garden but something is off. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>It is sideways. Another thing I notice is I am swaying...or not swaying. I am laying down in what appears to be a hammock, my head in someone's lap as they sway gently. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Good morning, sleepyhead." </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I turn my head the slightest bit to see Gavin looking down at me. My head is in his lap.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>But whatever shock I'm feeling, I cover up with a monotonous, "The hammock is new." </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Yeah?" </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"I know my garden." </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Okay," Gavin chuckles, "I thought it needed something new. Plus I was bored waiting for you." </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I try to sit up, but Gavin's hands press against my shoulders. When any attempt to sit up doesn't work(even though it wasn't much of an attempt), I try with, "You're not real." </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"I'm as real as you need me to be." </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"This is delusional. You're my own conscious." </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"A conscious you refuse to listen to. God, if you could just tell him, I would leave-" </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"We both know that will never happen-" </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"And so I'll be here forever. Running my hands through your hair as we swing on a hammock in your mind." </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>A small noise of pleasure escapes me as he runs his hands through my hair, his rough hands used to beat people up are so soft, so gentle. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Sleep now, you adorably awkward toaster." </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I can't help but chuckle. "Maybe I will." </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"You know, if I had my own sanctuary, I think it'd be a beach, somewhere warm where you and I could just forget about everything. It would just be us. How's that sound?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"It sounds wonderful." </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Yeah?"</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Yes." </em>
</p><p> </p><p>A noise pulls me out of my stasis, and it takes a second for me to stop being disoriented. With a dismissive tut, I flop back against the bed, thinking it was most likely just one of Gavin's stray cats pawing at the window for scraps. </p><p> </p><p>I close my eyes, about to enter my fantasy world once again when another sound rings through the apartment, louder this time. </p><p> </p><p>It sounds like words...dialogue...struggling words...</p><p> </p><p>Gavin! </p><p> </p><p>I rush out of my bed immediately, not even bothering to put on a shirt, just lumbering around in boxer shorts that the detective bought for me when I told him I had no other clothes. </p><p> </p><p>The sounds only grow louder as I near the bedroom, opening the door and preparing for some kind of burglar, a struggle, broken bones, but no. </p><p> </p><p>There Gavin is laying in his bed, sheets clenched in his white-knuckled grip, sweat beads rolling down his forehead, face colored in pain. </p><p> </p><p>"No...don't...please don't...do this! No! I can't...breathe!" </p><p> </p><p>Each word is like a knife in my heart and I race to his side, trying to rouse him from his nightmare. </p><p> </p><p>"Gavin-" I say calmly. "Gavin, wake up, it's just a dream, you're alright." </p><p> </p><p>When that doesn't work, I press my hands against his chest, trying, trying to stop this terrible pain. </p><p> </p><p>"Gavin!" </p><p> </p><p>His hands wrap around my wrists and his eyes shoot open, wide in terror. </p><p> </p><p>And then it's over. </p><p> </p><p>He sits up quickly, and I scoot slightly away to give him space. </p><p> </p><p>There are several moments of him huffing, out of breath, still clearly resisting the effects of the nightmare, before I finally manage to speak. "You were having a nightmare. Are-are you alright?" </p><p> </p><p>"Shit..." His voice is hollow and trembling, completely unlike the usual strong and certain voice of the detective. "Yeah...fuck...I'm fine...shit..." </p><p> </p><p>"Do you want to talk about it?" </p><p> </p><p>It takes a while for him to respond as if he's not entirely there with me. "N-no, thanks." </p><p> </p><p>"If you no longer require my assistance, I will be heading back to the guest room-" I stand up and stiffly make my way to the door, wishing there is something I can do, anything- </p><p> </p><p>"Wait, Nines-!" </p><p> </p><p>He cuts himself, looking down at his hands resting in his lap.</p><p> </p><p>I don't need to be an android to sense the distress radiating off of him, and without another word, I go over to the side of the bed. He scoots over, makes room for me in silent invitation, and without hesitation, I lay down next to him, facing the ceiling. </p><p> </p><p>His bed is a queen, meaning there is about a foot of space between us, but eventually, that space closes. </p><p> </p><p>His head presses against my shoulder and before I know it, my arm is wrapped around him as if it's not a second thought. I also notice I've moved away from the edge, which means the closing of the space between us is partially(or mostly) my fault, but neither of us is complaining. </p><p> </p><p>In fact, I hear gentle snoring coming from my counterpart. At that subtle but ever comforting sound, I allow myself to close my eyes and drift somewhere warm where I can forget everything. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. [we need coffee...and a shit ton of whiskey]</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Gavin and Nines talk about the events of last night and Gavin comes clean.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><b>----------</b> <b>GAVIN----------</b></p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Warm hands wrapped around my waist. A cold nose pressed against my neck. Legs intertwined. Safety. The strange feeling's almost overwhelming- </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The light is piercing when I open my eyes, sitting up in my bed only to find an empty room. The other side of the bed is untouched just like I left it, though I'm not entirely sure how I got here in the first place. The last thing I remember is falling asleep on the couch. Why are the curtains open? I liked to keep my bedroom as dark as possible and never once touched the curtains. </p><p> </p><p>With a groan, I stumble to my feet, peeling off last night's clothes and throwing them into the hamper in the corner of the room. I make my way to the bathroom(the master's bathroom is attached to the room) and splash cold water on my face, trying to wake myself up from the lingering dream. There in the mirror is some stranger with a scratchy eight-o-clock shadow, harsh bags under his eyes, and hollow features. I'm practically a ghost at this point, practically nonexistent. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Don't cry. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>You're too old for this. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Don't you dare fucking cry. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Instead, I let out a sigh and wash my face again before drying it on a towel. For a moment too long, I press that towel to my face and wish I could just vanish into oblivion.  After going back through my room and grabbing a sweatshirt, not bothering with a pair of pants, which is fine. Nines is probably still asleep--in stasis, the Nines in my head corrects me--so it doesn't matter if I saunter around in boxers and an oversize sweatshirt. </p><p> </p><p>Stumbling into the kitchen, the last thing I expect to smell is coffee brewing in that old coffee machine I should've replaced years ago. And there, sitting in a bar stool chair at the island counter is none other than Nines, dressed to perfection like always. </p><p> </p><p>"What-" I have to pause to appreciate the surprising roughness of my voice "-what are you doing? It's Saturday."</p><p> </p><p>And with that, I pour myself a nice big cup of coffee, adding a little creamer and one Splenda before pressing the rim of the mug to my mouth and taking a long sip. </p><p> </p><p>"I found this in the bathroom," Nines holds up my empty prescription bottle and I nearly choke on my drink, coffee dribbling down my chin. "For how long have you had trouble sleeping?" </p><p> </p><p>"How did you-" I choke on my words as well. "Were you in my bathroom?" </p><p> </p><p>"As your partner, it is my job-" </p><p> </p><p>"It's your job to help me solve cases, not go snooping around my business! What, are you scanning me as well?" </p><p> </p><p>"I don't need to scan you to sense your distress, detective," He replies coolly. </p><p> </p><p>"Well, obviously! Jesus fuck, Nines! Ever heard of something called personal space? No, of course you haven't, you're an emotionless refrigerator!" The words are like poison coming out of my mouth and I can almost see the way he withdrawals into himself, something he does when I've struck a tender chord. God, I don't mean to hurt him, I never do. Mom always said I opened my mouth and words just fell out and my brain was always two steps behind. My temper always gets the best of me, adding to the fire and it's a wonder Nines hasn't ditched yet. That android's put up with so much of my shit it's a wonder I don't see things for what they are: that he's going to be there. But the doubt is almost overwhelming, and the sting of betrayal is too much to think about, so, like any survivor, I pretend like every day with him around is my last. I try not to be surprised when it isn't. </p><p> </p><p>"That...<em>fuck</em>," I've made up my mind and grab the whiskey from the highest shelf in the cupboard before plopping down next to Nines, mug and whiskey bottle in hand. </p><p> </p><p>"Gavin, I'm worried for your wellbeing. This has nothing to do with my 'job'." He's looking at me with those large silver eyes full of curiosity and concern versus his usual mild disgusted and judging expression. </p><p> </p><p>I draw in a deep breath, pouring whiskey into my coffee before taking a long drink. "22 years." </p><p> </p><p>"Pardon?" </p><p> </p><p>"22 years since I've had a decent night's sleep." </p><p> </p><p>Nines' eyes widen a fraction. "Do you want to talk about it?" </p><p> </p><p>I allow myself to pour more whiskey into my coffee and down the whole thing. "You've read my file. I was some loser messed-up kid who got picked up by Fowler on patrol. Gave me a job." </p><p> </p><p>"You were picked up for a drunk squabble on Christmas Eve with multiple injuries," Nines nods. </p><p> </p><p>"Fowler found me lying in the snow, all bloodied and helpless. God, I hate the fucking <em>snow</em>. But surprising as it may seem, I wasn't drunk." </p><p> </p><p>I can already see the questions forming in his cute little brain. "Wha-" </p><p> </p><p>"I was on the run. Got on the first bus to anywhere and it ended up being Detroit. At the station, there were these two guys harassing this girl." I can't help but grin at the memory. "So naturally, I gave them the business end of my fists. Of course, because there were two of them, they beat my ass, but at least the girl got away."</p><p> </p><p>"Wow. I did not know that." He's staring at me, his lips slightly parted. "Is this the cause of your nightmares?" </p><p> </p><p>Laughter bursts from my mouth before I can stop myself. When the laughing subsides, I fill my empty mug halfway full of whiskey and throw it back. "I wish." </p><p> </p><p>"Then what was it?" </p><p> </p><p>"Wanna know why I was running? I owed this gang doing red ice a lot of money. They were going to kill me, and I just managed to get on a bus fast enough. Left everything behind--wait a minute." I slam the cup down on the counter, looking him dead in the eye. "How did you know about my nightmares?" </p><p> </p><p>Now it's his turn to be antsy, and his gaze finds anything but me. "You don't remember last night?" </p><p> </p><p>"It's...it's all kind of just a blur." </p><p> </p><p>"Well, I heard you struggling last night. You asked me to stay. And so I did." </p><p> </p><p>"Oh." </p><p> </p><p>"Yep." He makes sure to pop the 'p' just like I taught him. </p><p> </p><p>"That...explains a lot, actually." </p><p> </p><p>"It does?" </p><p> </p><p>I can only nod, my mind swirling back to my first thoughts in the morning. Of Safety. And hands. The heat rises to my cheeks and I can't tell if it's from the alcohol or him. </p><p> </p><p>"Well anyway," I suddenly remember I'm telling a story and very poorly I'll admit, "I was born in Chicago. And after what happened with my...uh--nevermind...when I was getting chased by this gang, I actually was heading somewhere warm like I dunno Atlanta, Georgia but I got on the wrong bus and ended up here. I was 17. In the end, it all worked out because I met you, but..."</p><p> </p><p>I trailed off to look up at him to make sure he was still listening to me and sure enough, there he was as if his whole world was in this room and there is nothing outside of it. All of his attention is on me. </p><p> </p><p>"...but my history is a dark one and I need a pill to sleep because otherwise everything comes right back and I'm a stupid, messed-up loser kid who's helpless to dig himself out of his own grave." </p><p> </p><p>Silence ensues for what feels like too long before Nines clears his throat and speaks. </p><p> </p><p>"That's not all there is, is it?" </p><p> </p><p>He takes my unresponsiveness as an answer. </p><p> </p><p>"There is, and it's much worse than gangs and drugs." </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, well, for that conversation to happen, I'm going to need to drink something way stronger than whiskey. Arsenic would do the trick I think." And though I'm laughing, those words could not be truer. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Alright, you can come out, but only if you're quiet," He whispered. "Do you understand?" </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I nodded once and he beckoned me out of our room into the kitchen to make dinner.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>A loud snore came from the living room. And there was Joseph snoring in the recliner, beer can still clutched in his limp hand. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>The objective: get food without waking him up. Because waking him up was worse than starving. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>He opened the fridge carefully, and took out an apple, an orange, the peanut butter, and grabbed two slices of bread and a knife from the counter. While he was getting supplies, I was the lookout. I watched Joseph's uneven breathing, the snores that shook his chest. With our supplies, we tiptoed back to our room and closed the door so slowly and quietly. Within the protection of our little space, we made dinner: half an apple, half an orange with peanut butter on bread. This was one of our better days. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Mittens was pawing at the window. He was just as hungry as us, so I offered him an apple piece through the cracked open window. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Gav, how many times have I told you not to feed that cat! He's from the garbage-" </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"He's hungry too!" I remembered saying, but the look on his face silenced me and I closed the window with a sigh. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Look Gav," His tone softened, "We're all hungry. But you come first. You gotta take care of you. Understood?" </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Yeah." </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Yeah what?" </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Yeah, Reed, I won't feed the damn cat." </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Hey, watch your language, nutbrain!" And he was smiling, which naturally made me smile. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Oh I wonder who I learned it from." </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Shut up, Jackass," He pulled me close, and we had a feast. Or so we thought, that night. Because in our little kingdom, despite what everyone else said, we were fucking kings. And nobody else in the whole wide fucking world mattered. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Oh, Nines. You don't know the half of it. </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. [potato couch]</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Domestic fluff that involves spending the day on the couch watching The Bachelorette and eating take out.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey guys, sorry I kind of just left you without an update, I've been working on another series for another fandom and I just got caught up in the writing for that, but now I'm back and we're going to kick this shit. This is a really short chapter just kind of easing you back into the story, so please enjoy!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>----------NINES----------</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>It's a good day to do nothing. This is somehow how we spend all of our days at home, sitting around being the laziest people on earth. I'm perfectly serious. When at least 85% of our days are spent chasing after criminals and diving straight into danger, I admit it's nice to step back and enjoy some time doing nothing. </p><p> </p><p>"This is the shit," Gavin groans next to me, curled up in a blanket and watching the 56th season of The Bachelorette like his life depends on it, which by the look on his face, it most definitely does. "Oi, look at that. Jason's trying to get more time with Kaylin, that stupid woman-stealer." </p><p> </p><p>I only raise an eyebrow at him. "Isn't that the point of the show?" </p><p> </p><p>"Well yes," He huffs, "But no. You're supposed to play fucking fair. He's the villain of the show so he never does. It's <em>The Bachelorette</em> formula." </p><p> </p><p>"If every season's the same, why do you watch it?" </p><p> </p><p>"Because some consistency is a good thing, Nines. It gives me security," Gavin grins evilly, slouching down further against the couch. "Look, he's going to say something emotionally manipulative and she's going to believe him for a second before realizing what he's doing and she'll get him kicked off the show by the end." </p><p> </p><p>Sure enough, Gavin is right and at the end of the episode, Jason is sent packing. Gavin confirms that "the little shit will be back" which only makes me laugh because he looks totally serious about it, and he is.</p><p> </p><p>This is our little weekend ritual. It usually happens something like this. We watch a show or he introduces me to a movie that I need to watch, explaining to me the cultural norms of human society and as always, he is right. But only in this category. </p><p> </p><p>2 months ago, it was <em>Wall-E</em>. He was so excited to show me it. </p><p> </p><p>It was a Friday and all day he'd been telling me how good it was, how precious it was, how amazing it was and finally, the end of the day came and as soon as our shift was over and everything was packed up, he grabbed my hand and practically dragged me to the car. He drove 15 miles above the speed limit the whole way home before racing up the stairs, ordering Chinese really quick before plopping me down on the couch and putting the movie in. </p><p> </p><p>Curiously enough, Gavin owns a DVD player. Most movies are streamed on networks and channels, but he had an actual DVD player, a working one in good condition as well as actual DVDs in their cases. All lined up like a row of books on the TV stand.  </p><p> </p><p>Among them was <em>The Shining</em>, but he pulled out <em>Wall-E</em> and sat down next to me, buzzing with excitement. </p><p> </p><p>The whole movie, he kept glancing over at me to watch my reactions, to see what I was doing, how I was acting. </p><p> </p><p>I noticed his eyes started to shimmer around the part where the two robots are flying through space with fire extinguishers. Somehow, his expression made the scene that much more enjoyable. </p><p> </p><p><em>Wall-E</em> is now my favorite movie. But I can't watch it alone, of course, I can usually bribe Gavin to watch it with me if I buy him eggrolls(one of his comfort foods) so he'll bring his blanket and watch the movie with me, usually falling asleep by the third act on my shoulder. </p><p> </p><p>Yeah, <em>Wall-E's</em> the best. </p><p> </p><p>"Hungry?" I question after hearing his stomach rumble. Must be all of that whiskey and coffee this morning. </p><p> </p><p>"Mmhm," He nods, eyes still trained on the screen, unmoving. </p><p> </p><p>For a second, I think maybe I should cook something, but then that immediately dissolves when I remember the last time I tried to cook. </p><p> </p><p>Okay, I am a master of <strike>all</strike> most trades. I can basically do everything. </p><p> </p><p>Kamski thought it wasn't important whether I was programmed how to make food or not as long as I hunted Deviants and disposed of them properly. That is my intended programming. </p><p> </p><p>Gavin can cook, though he doesn't like to admit it, and rarely ever indulges in it. But sometimes, if he's in a good mood, he'll prepare chicken enchiladas or grilled cheese sandwiches, tacos, meatloaf. But that's rare. If he is cooking though, there are unspoken rules. </p><p> </p><p>I'm not allowed to say anything about the food. He takes no compliments whatsoever and it usually puts him off. I also can't help him or correct him in any way while he's cooking. I have to "leave him alone and let him do his thing". </p><p> </p><p>But when he's not cooking, it's usually leftovers or take-out. </p><p> </p><p>So, to save us both the trouble of a burnt apartment, I order takeout without even asking him what he wants. </p><p> </p><p>I already know. </p><p> </p><p>And after a quick call and a placed order, I find myself back on the couch right next to Gavin who's in pajamas curled up and eyes glued to the screen, and I find I don't have a care in the world. </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey you! Thanks for reading and if you like how this story's going, please slap the kudos button and comment below-- your comments make my day! </p><p>Okay that's all, Imma go ahead and duck out . . .</p></blockquote></div></div>
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